VIII | A WEDDING TO END A WAR

𝐀𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑 𝐔𝐍𝐄𝐗𝐏𝐄𝐂𝐓𝐄𝐃 𝐈𝐍𝐕𝐈𝐓𝐄 to a Shelby family meeting made Caterina venture into The Garrison for what seemed the hundredth time that month.

The usual attendees of the bar barely looked up from their drinks when she strode in, her usual fitted coat shielding her from the chilly February day, and a grey tweed dress peaking from underneath.

With a passing wave to a tired looking Grace tending the bar, she disappeared inside the private booth, only to find the Shelby's fully assembled and waiting.

"Right, sorry I'm late. Sorry John, and thank you for inviting me. " She had tried to argue with him on that, but he insisted. In a frighteningly short time she had become an extension to their family, something she didn't mind in the very least. With a pang of regret, she realised, they were more of a family to her than her own bloodline.

"No, no thank you, you opened my eyes that other night here, when you spoke about uh- life being short and love and all that."

"When the fuck did I say that?" Vaguely shocked at that discovery she turned to look at Polly, far too amused for he liking. She bumped her with her elbow, hissing. "Did you hear me say that?"

"Yeah, somewhen after declaring war on the communists and losing twenty pounds on cards with the boys."

"Jesus fuck." Running a hand over her face, she took a swig of beer passed over by someone at the table.

"As I was saying," John hesitated, mentally preparing for the complete storm he was about to cause. "That's why I'm getting married."

"Does this poor girl know you're going to marry her or are you going to spring it on her all of a sudden?"

"I've already proposed and she said yes."

"I think there's a shell about to land and go bang." Thomas mused, an unlit cigarette hanging lazily from his lips.

"It's, er - It's Lizzie Stark." John confessed, waiting for the inevitably terrible reaction. Several people in the booth unceremoniously spit out their drinks in surprise, Cat among them.

Caterina threw her hands up in surprise. "Santo Dio!"

"John." Polly exclaimed staring at her nephew, truly wondering if he was being serious. "Lizzie Stark's a strong woman and I am sure she provides a fine service for her customers." Another round of unconcealed laughter sounded from them.

"I won't hear the word. Understand? Do not use that word." John straightened up in defence of his prospective bride.

On Polly's left, Cat stayed silent like a tomb, lips parted in surprise and an unlit cigarette halfway to them. If anyone were to glance her way they would notice the burning red of her cheeks, recalling quite intimately the events of the night prior.

Incessant rain tapped against the wooden windowpane, stirring the inhabitants of the room out of their lazing slumber.

Caterina's form laid spread over the cushions, lace of her dainty nighty carelessly hiked up above her hipbone. Eyes closed, she let the smoke of her cigarette dance above her head

"Don't smoke on my fuckin' bedsheets."

A cheeky smile slowly spread over her lips. Purposefully, she exhaled the poisonous coils and snuggled deeper into the coarse linen of the bedding.

"I'll buy some new fuckin' sheets." She popped open her eye, glancing over to the slender woman sitting at the adjacent desk. One hand propped under her chin, she glared at Cat over a steaming cup of tea.

"You do know, I pay you to fuck me, not criticize me."

"It's a special service you get for our friendship."

It was John's rage fueled threat that snapped her back to present.

"Right, I want it known if anyone calls her a whore again, I will push the barrel of my revolver down their throats and blow the word back down into their hearts." He seethed at his family members, sick of the way they spoke about one person that finally seemed to care about him, about his feelings.

"Men and their cocks never cease to amaze me." Polly sighed in exasperation, turning to Cat for support. "John, Lizzie Stark never did a day's work vertical."

"She's changed." Silly boy, no she hasn't.

"All right." Arthur turned his attention back at the beer in his hand.

"People change. Like wi-wi-with religion." It was a losing battle from his side. No amount of convincing would soften the hearts of his family.

"Oh, Lizzie Stark has got religion, eh?" Thomas poked at him from his place leaning on the wall.

"No, no, she doesn't have religion. But, well, she loves me." John turned to his brother, pleadingly.

"Now, listen, Tommy. I won't do it without your blessing. But of all the people in the world. I want you to see it...as brave."

Oh, the noble heart of John Shelby. Martha would talk about him hours on end, when the four of them stayed the nights awake, swapping stories of their boys out there in the cold, damp trenches and tents. It felt like a lifetime ago.

One day she was there, laughing and cooking for the lot of them, children clinging to her leg. And then, all at once, she was gone and four children remained behind, motherless.

"It's brave all right." Muttered Arthur, taking a swig of his beer.

"Brave is going where no man has gone before." Polly started, barely containing a straight face.

"Or woman." Caterina added, albeit quietly.

"With Lizzy Stark, John, that is really not what you'll be doing."

"Listen, Tommy." John ignored his aunt's protests, turning to the one man who's opinion mattered the most.

"Welcome her to the family. As someone who's had a hard life. All right? Because, I need someone. All right, the kids need someone."

"Listen, John, I said I can watch the kids when Finn comes over, no problemo. This is just-"

Without warning, the youngest Shelby crashed into the snug, red faced and panting. "Tommy! We've been done over!

Not sparing another word the four Shelby's rushed through the door, Polly's firm grip tugging Caterina along with them.

Caterina hoped she would never have to see a proper battlefield, but the Shelby headquarters now looked eerily like the ones depicted in history books.

Discarded papers littered the floor, chairs and tables thrown over and hacked at. Absolutely everything in the shop was turned over, knocked down or broken. The oldest Shelby brother hurried to the one unfortunate man that was left to tend to the shop, now holding his bleeding face.

"What the bloody hell happened here?"

"Jesus Christ." John cursed, kicking a wooden crate in frustration.

"The Lees. All of them; cousins, nephews, even bastards." The man- Scudboat - said, wincing as he tried to stop the blood flowing from the fresh cut on his head, courtesy of the Lee family. Arthur passed him some whiskey, both for the pain and the wound.

"They've taken anything they can lay their hands on," growled Polly. "Four cash boxes."

Out of the corner of his eye, Thomas noticed a peculiar object on top of the fireplace. He wandered over to it, picking it up and showing it to everyone in the room. A grim look crossed his face. "They left these"

Caterina inched closer to take a better look. "Wire cutters?"

"Why would they leave wire cutters?" An unspoken exchange was passed among the brothers, all three of them knowing something.

"Nobody move," Arthur warned, raking his eyes around the rooms. "I think our friends are playing the game."

"What game?" Insisted Polly. She started walking towards the back of the office, only for John to step in front of her.

"Aunt Pol. Don't touch anything." John warned softly, but firmly.

"Erasmus Lee was in France." Tommy announced. A collective "Shit." was sounded from the veterans.

"When we gave up ground to the Germans," He explained, "we'd leave behind booby traps, set up with wires. And we'd leave wire cutters as part of the joke."

Polly looked at the pair of wire cutters in his hand, eyes widening in horror. "Holy Jesus."

"What a fucking sense of humor." Cat rolled her eyes, frozen to the spot in fear. "Sanctissima."

"Somewhere in here there's a hand grenade." Arthur added, slowly making way through the room. "Don't move any chairs or open any doors."

It didn't seem likely, Caterina thought. "I think, if there was a hand grenade here, it would've blown up already. We walked through most of the shop." She reasoned.

Tommy sent her an appreciative look before confirming her words with a nod. "That's right, it's not in here. It was my name on that bullet Erasmus sent. He's set a trap all right. But he's set it up just for me."

Something still felt wrong as Cat raked her eyes over the shop, eyebrows furrowed. "Pol, have you seen Finn?" They hadn't seen the youngest Shelby sibling since they left The Garrison in a rush.

Arthur peered around the shop, "Yeah, where's the the little rascal?"

One place where only Tommy would go to... Something that belonged solely to him.. From the back of her mind, she remembered him telling her about the bet with Johnny Dogs that started this entire mess.

Like a punch to the gut, the only possible answer crossed her mind. "The car. The bloody car, Tommy!"

Caterina followed Tommy's lead as they rushed out of the house and around the corner to the makeshift garage that housed Tommy's priced possession. There, in the driver's seat sat Finn, playing pretend. His eyes lit up the moment he spotted them.

"Finn, dearest boy, get out of the car the way you came in." Her heart pounded in her ears. One wrong move and.. She tried to suppress the tears starting to form in the corner of her eyes. Beside her, Tommy's eyes flashed with unspeakable panic.

"Look Cat! I'm riding it like Tommy!" The boy grinned proudly, jumping behind the steering wheel. "I can take you to the pictures!"

"A true gentleman." She tried to come closer and placate the boy into exiting the car only to be stopped by Tommy's firm grip. He pushed her back behind him, slowly edging towards the driver's side door himself.

"Which door did you open to get in, Finn?"

"I didn't, I climbed in." He grinned proudly, turning the wheel left and right.

"I want you to climb out exactly the same way you climbed in, okay?"

Finn disregarded the obvious concern on their faces, jumping out of the other door. Caterina looked in horror as a hand grenade rolled out of the car, about to blow any moment. She made a quick work of grabbing Finn and pulling him into her embrace while Tommy took the ticking grenade and chucked it across the road.

A deafening explosion rocked the street, pieces of gravel hitting their turned backs. Ominous flames licked the sky blood red. A pair of strong hands wrapped around her and Finn, shielding them from the impact protectively.

Once the dust had settled, Caterina ducked down, cradling Finn's dirt covered face between her hands. "Oh you silly, silly boy. You don't need to be like Tommy. You need to be like you. Like Finn Shelby, you promise?"

Shocked by the unexpected explosion, the eleven-year-old simply nodded, staring at his shoes. If anyone had passed they would have seen the two of them checking Finn for injuries like overly concerned parents.

"That's why you should never pretend to be me." Thomas stated firmly, though Cat could hear the shakiness underneath. He pulled his youngest brother in another hug, kissing the top of his hair.

"Run along to Pol, come on." He pushed him gently towards the house and out of the explosion site. Once Finn was out of sight, Thomas instinctively pulled Cat's shaking form into him.

"You alright? Did you get hurt?" He rested his hands on her arms, eyes raking over her body in search of any possible scraps. She let herself be comforted by the warmth he emitted, and the concern etched in the icy blue of his eyes.

She shook her head, gently fixing her disheveled hair behind her ear. "Not even a scratch. Gave me a fright that boy." Letting out a sigh of relief, she let their eyes finally connect.

It could have been a lifetime, or at least it felt like it - the way unchainable ocean bore into melting gold. There was something alive in the air they breathed.

The spell was broken - he averted his eyes, letting his hands fall down. With a nod he disappeared back into the betting shop, leaving Cat to calm her racing heart.

She let the chilly evening wind slap her face, the now all too familiar smell of cigarette smoke and gasoline permanently stuck to the fabric of her coat and strings of her heart.

Gravel crunched beneath the women's shoes, the three of them advancing into the Lee property where the wedding was about to take place. After the unfortunate grenade situation at the Watery Lane, Caterina urged Thomas to end the war with the Lee's, lest someone actually ends up maimed or worse.

He turned up at her office after the negotiations, two wedding invitations in hand - one for Ada and one for her.

Caterina glanced sadly at her lacquered purple heels or what remained of them, anyway. Shining and new when she exited the house were now scrapped and bruised, a thick layer of mud and dust sticking to the soles. But, then again, what did she expect? A lavish farm, cobbled pathways?

"There's been an awful lot of weddings in your family in the last few weeks. Who's next, Arthur?"

Ada snorted, throwing an amused smirk in her direction. "Like shit. As if he could find a sane woman willing to deal with his crap. Though at this point I bet Thomas is willing to trade him off for a good business deal."

"Do you, John Michael Shelby take Esme Martha Lee to be your beautiful wife?"

Thomas, standing in the crowd surrounding the couple, noticed the arrival of the women. He slipped back from the guests, inching closer to his sister. "You got my invitation?"

"Cat told me about the truce." His sister leveled him with a withering glare. "Glad to know you're using my best friend to send letters now. Having a shortage of lackeys?"

"Family day. Your husband couldn't make it?" He jested. Ada did not find it amusing at all.

"He's not speaking to me. And when he does he calls me a fucking Shelby even though I'm a Thorne now."

"Thorn in my side, that's for sure." He grumbled, although with affection. His pride would never allow him to admit it, but Ada was his weakest spot. From the moment she took her first breath he swore he would protect her from every harm, no matter what.

"My God, Tommy. You admire him, don't you?"

"There remains one more part of the ceremony." Declared a man she later found out was named Johnny Dogs. "It's the mingling of the two bloods. Where the two families become the one family."

Caterina winced slightly as the, most likely, unsanitary knife sliced into John's and Esme's palms, the newly wedded couple then proceeding to press their hands together signaling the deal signed in blood.

"I now pronounce you man and wife! Come on, John, kiss the bride will you?"

With hollering and cheers it was Esme who kissed her hew husband first, both quite content with the outcome of the unexpected arrangement.

It was, by far, the most wild party Caterina had ever witnessed. All social decorum aside - though it was debatable if Gypsy's had any - both men and women, children and elderly, swung around in alcohol induced merriment. Fireworks had gone off at some point, followed by gunshots, both scaring the chickens cooped up several yards away.

Her brain was going pleasantly fuzzy, she noted, as she watched the newlyweds sneak little kisses between greeting the guests. Esme seemed like an amiable young woman - she'd do good to John.

"I've never been to a gypsy wedding, but they do resemble Italian weddings. Lots of traditions, protocols." Caterina brought another glass of - well, whatever the hell it was that the Lee's managed to brew - to her lips.

The alcohol in her bloodstream untied her tongue, infused her with liquid courage she needed, especially after the events in the garage.

She had gotten bored of Tommy's brooding over the merry crowd of revelers and itched for a good dance to stretch her legs. "Not dancing tonight?"

"No."

"Shame." And with that she marched over to where she noticed Ada chatting with the newest addition to the Shelby family, leaving him to his cigarettes and alcohol and lonesome thoughts.

"Come on, spin me round again."

"You should tell Ada to slow down." Polly nodded towards the two girls laughing with some of the many Lee daughters by the bonfire.

At some point during the night, the ribbons holding Caterina's hair disappeared, allowing the dark waves to tumble over her shoulders. Muddy skirts hiked over her knees and wild glee in her amber eyes, one could mistaken her for a true-blooded gypsy. Ada and her spun around each other like two teenagers, unburdened and free.

"You think she'll listen to me? I tried to stop her but she's been drinking. Been stuck in that little basement for weeks. What do we expect? She's going off like a firecracker."

"Oh, Christ, Tommy, please." Polly begged as Ada continued to spin like a mad woman.

With a defeated sigh he stood up and made his way to the girls. "Enough now. Come on. Enough."

"All right, Ada, come on, have a rest, sit down." Tommy tried to placate his pregnant sister, pushing her towards the chairs. It only fueled the rage bubbling inside her.

She pushed him away forcibly, trying to squirm out of his grip. "Come and look, Esme. Come and look at the family you've joined. Come and look at the man who runs it. Chooses his brother's wives for them. He hunts his own sister down like a rat and he tries to kill his own brother-in-law!"

"And now you pull my only friend in this shit you do, and you'll ruin her." She screamed, pounding at his unmovable chest. "You don't deserve her." No, I really don't, Ada.

"Ada, that's enough."

"He won't even let me have a fucking dance! Not even at a fucking wedding!"

Ada's outburst of rage being like a bucket of cold water over her head, Cat was quickly sobered up by the concern for her best friend and her unborn child. "Ada for fucks sake you'll go into early labour."

Not even a moment later, Ada abruptly stopped her tirade, her breaths getting heavier. And then, with a tiny splash and a trickle, her water broke.

"Holy shit! Water." Polly stared at the newly formed pool underneath Ada. "Right."

"Not now, Ada." Arthur groaned. "Bloody hell, you do pick your times! Slow her up."

"Did you just tell your sister it's fuckin' inconvenient-"

"Cat, it hurts!" Ada's plea turned her attention from the intention of hitting the oldest Shelby brother over his thick head.

In a flurry of motion, the Shelby's packed up in their cars, with Ada clawing at Cat's hand in the back of Tommy's car, her pained screams filling the cold, Birmingham's night.

After almost having left the contents of her stomach somewhere along the road, the car stopped in front of number 6 Water Lane.

"Nice and easy." Thomas passed Ada into Polly's experienced hands. The two rushed into the house, shortly followed by Esme. Stretching out a helping hand to Cat, she clambered out of the car, visibly disheveled by the ride.

"Nice car, John. How's she run?" Thomas asked casually, leaning on the hood and lighting a cigarette. Caterina quickly plucked it from
his fingers, inhaling twice to calm her nerves before returning it to him.

"Yeah, beautiful. Really smooth."

"I'll say it again; none like Bentley." Cat tapped the hood of John's new car with an appreciative grin.

"Your sister in there giving birth, you're talking about the bloody car." Polly reappeared at the doorway. She pointed an accusing finger at Cat. "I'm talking to you, too."

Thomas simply shrugged . "Not much us men can do now, Pol."

"Except go get drunk." Arthur added jovially.

Caterina scoffed, detaching herself from the hood of the car and making way for the door. "That's what you do on regular days, too."

"There's one man should be here." Polly tried to stop him.

"You are right, Pol, Freddie should be here." That stopped Caterina in her tracks. Was it possible that his unforgiving heart melted for his sister?

An equally surprised Polly smiled. "Is that a heartbeat I hear inside that chest?"

"The truce lasts till sunrise. On my oath. Tell Freddie it's safe." He assured his aunt who had already rushed into the house, happily announcing the news to labouring Ada.

"Ada!"

Only Cat still remained outside, staring at Tommy with a slight smile on her face. She quickly squeezed his hand as a silent thank you for Ada, before closing the door of the house behind her.

"Right, boys, let's wet this baby's head." Thomas rounded up Arthur and John, the three of them trudging happily down the road to The Garrison.